


pleasant lethargy

by briggs



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, HOW EXCITING!!!!!, Lets Get Married For..... the... taxes... yeah, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, i promise it's not ridiculous and stupid, i tried to write it very very in character, it's more of a bored suggestion, it's not even a proposal, or at least i hope not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 00:53:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11025150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briggs/pseuds/briggs
Summary: It's a lazy morning. Blunt and casual conversation just happens to be their style._or: less of a marriage proposal and more of a casual suggestion.





	pleasant lethargy

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to 1.5k of lazy morning andreil fluff. thank you to the wonderful zeke (@foxxhole on tumblr) for encouraging me to write this! this is also my first andreil fic that i've actually finished and decided to post, so go easy on me. i have no one to read my work over and make sure it isn't garbage.
> 
> also: i know nora said andrew and neil never get married, but listen to me: tax benefits. mortgages. fucking emergency contacts. like FUCK they wouldn't get married just for the practicality.
> 
> based on this post by zeke: https://foxxhole.tumblr.com/post/161149772426/i-love-fics-where-andrew-and-neil-decide-to-get
> 
> enjoy!

Neil opened his eyes slowly to a sun-filled room. It was bright out, clearly past his usual rising hour, and for a moment it worried him. For that moment he didn’t recognize the room; couldn’t name the country he was waking up in, let alone the city. It was natural to force the panic to settle by looking around the room, picking up specific memories from objects placed strategically in view of the bed. As Neil scanned, forcing himself to breathe normally, the world pieced itself back together again in front of his tired eyes.

 

On the dresser at the far end of the room was a framed photo of the Foxes’ first championship win, Neil’s first year on a Class I team. From there his eyes drifted slowly to the the bedside table, where there was a familiar set of keys -- the keys to the house in Columbia -- placed close to him for this exact reason. Just above, hanging on the adjacent wall, was Neil’s jersey from his first professional Exy team, when he played for New York. At the end of the bed was a cat, Sir, and the memory of taking him home rose to the surface of Neil’s mind. The last movement was a natural progression. It was instinct that came from going over this same list every morning.

 

But when Neil rolled over to check the other side of the bed, it was missing. The last piece had been removed from the board before Neil could manage to finish the puzzle. He looked back at Sir, at the end of the bed, and it was almost ridiculous how long it took his mind to finally make the connection.

 

Andrew wasn’t beside him.

 

Instinct told him to panic. A feeling of dread washed over Neil’s body like a tsunami devastates a city. 

 

Fear told him to call out Andrew’s name, but reason and logic told him to wait. Neil took a deep breath, calming himself, and instead reached for his phone from the bedside table. Knowing the time and date allowed him to ground himself, to notice that Andrew’s side of the bed was familiar in its mess, that it wasn’t likely Andrew was in trouble. But that left another set of questions -- if it was already almost 11a.m. and Andrew wasn’t in sight, had he gone to practice without waking Neil?

 

Even that concerned train of thought slowed to a halt soon enough, as Neil read the date again and realized it was Saturday. The most likely reality was that Andrew had simply woken up before him and gone to the living room window for a smoke. 

 

The conclusion set Neil’s mind at ease, and he settled back into his pillow. Through the window on the nearest wall, Neil could see the neighbouring apartment building and the closest gym, and their grocery store just beyond that. It was the path Neil often ran at night. 

 

It was only a few minutes before Neil heard the creaking of wood and turned to see Andrew slowly re-entering the bedroom. He was in his sleep pants, hung low around the hips like he had thrown them on haphazardly when he woke up. Andrew’s face was calm. His hair was a bit of a mess, and he had a coffee cup in each hand that threatened to spill over with every tired step he took closer to the bed.

 

“Good morning.” Neil’s voice felt a little rough, but that was easily explained by a combination of morning disuse and events from the night before.

 

Andrew didn’t look up from the mugs. “Barely,” he said, but Neil couldn’t decide which part of Neil’s greeting he was referring to. “Next time I’ll let your coffee go cold.”

 

It was an empty threat and they both knew it. This was not the first time Andrew had brought Neil’s coffee to the bed for him, and it likely wouldn’t be the last; but Neil knew better than to comment on it. Instead he watched Andrew set his mug down, before sitting up to accept the one offered to him. Andrew crawled back into bed beside Neil, grabbing his coffee, and for a while they sat together in a pleasant morning quiet. Neil drained his coffee slowly and allowed himself to bask in the peace. 

 

After some consideration, Neil spoke again. “We should go on vacation.”

 

The look on Andrew’s face was unphased, and he barely glanced over at Neil. To the untrained eye he would look uninterested. To Neil, however, it was a sign that he had thought of the idea before. “As if you know how to take a break,” Andrew replied, like it was an amusing and borderline ridiculous thought.

 

“I’m serious.”

 

“That’s the amusing part,” Andrew said, his tone unwavering, “We’re mid-season.” He stated, like it would change Neil’s mind, like the desire for a break in a remote location would disappear as soon as the season was over.

 

Neil shrugged and looked over at the man beside him. “We don’t have to leave tomorrow.”

 

It seemed as if Andrew might laugh at him, and something in Neil wanted him to. He had only heard it once, followed by an eye roll, but Andrew’s laugh had easily been the nicest sound to grace Neil’s ears up until that point. The expression passed and Andrew threw him a skeptical look. “You’re an idiot,” he said, but the harshness behind it had fallen flat, and he raised a finger to the underside of Neil’s jaw, coaxing him in for a lazy morning kiss.

 

“Think about it,” Neil insisted, when he was able to. He tightened his grip on the mug in his lap. Kissing Andrew, even so tiredly, had almost caused him to forget about the near-empty coffee cup in his hands. 

 

Andrew’s responding hum was a bored one, but there was some sincerity behind it. “I’ve thought about it,” he said at last. “And I’ve decided you’re still an idiot.” This time Andrew took the mug from Neil’s hands and put it beside his own on the bedside table. “Now shut up.”

 

Neil let Andrew pull him in again. After a few tired kisses, Andrew slid down to lie properly on the bed, inviting Neil closer to him. Neil was quick to follow him down, but checked Andrew’s face for a nod of approval before draping himself across the man’s chest.

 

They rested there for a while, exchanging lazy kisses for soft brushes. 

 

Eventually Andrew’s voice, completely bored and level and directed at the ceiling, broke the silence. “Marry me.”

 

It was the kind of short sentence Neil thought he’d never hear leave Andrew’s lips. For a moment he thought it was a hallucination. Maybe Neil was still asleep. Panic threatened to sink in, however unreasonably, at the thought that maybe Andrew was some weird fever hallucination or coma dream. It sounded much too good to be true. Too normal, too domestic. Where’s the other shoe?

 

“What?”

 

Andrew sighed as if Neil’s confusion was predictable but irritating. When Neil’s surprise didn’t settle out of his expression, Andrew raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Do your ears work better in German?” It wasn’t a question, but the next part wasn’t English anyway. “I said let’s get married.”

 

Neil tried to speak, but no words came apart from the word, “Why?”

 

“Taxes, shared bank accounts,” Andrew replied easily. After a moment’s thought, he continued, “So I can actually see you next time you do something stupid and end up in the hospital.”

 

“You mean without putting one of the nurses in a gurney.”

 

Andrew didn’t respond. The answer was obvious. “Yes or no?”

 

Once upon a time, Neil had stayed awake in the back of a stolen van beside his sleeping mother. He had stared at the ceiling and thought about all the people his mother had warned him not to look at, or trust, or care about -- everyone she thought would be a threat or vulnerability. Neil had thought, in that moment, about a different life. A life where he was allowed to have something good, something permanent. A different universe where he had a house and a  _ home, _ which are two entirely different things, and he didn’t fall asleep with death behind his eyelids and fear rotting his bones. 

 

Back then, it had seemed like a pointless and ridiculous dream. 

 

Now, Neil was waking up every day beside a man he loved. A man he was now going to marry, if only on paper. Neil went to sleep every night surrounded by his house and skin-to-skin with  _ home _ , someone who had the strength to stay beside him. It wasn’t rainbows and unicorns but it never had been anyway, and even if Neil was given sunshine and lollipops he wouldn’t take it -- because that isn’t Andrew.

 

“It’s always yes with you.”

 

 

 

“Say that again and I’ll make you eat your fucking tongue.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! as always, i love comments and criticisms; if i made any mistakes don't hesitate to let me know!
> 
> you can also contact me on tumblr, i'm always taking prompts.
> 
> main blog: grimegarage.tumblr.com  
> andreil/aftg sideblog: jostyards.tumblr.com


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